Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Peaceful Midterm Exam Week (5)
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A quiet village in the Bartudis region, where Peckda Magic Tower stood.
Fog blanketed the area year-round, and unexplained storms raged every night. The wise choice here was to stay indoors whenever the magic tower's alert sirens blared.
This was the region in all of Penheim where the most missing persons cases and unclaimed bodies turned up.
Mareill Voltmore, investigating the bizarre phenomenon known as "Baldur's Nightmare," ordered a bourbon whiskey at a small tavern as usual and took a seat.
A magic orb on the bar counter across from her was broadcasting the Monster King Wars.
"Damn, lost again? When's the last time those Merak Magic Tower bastards even won?"
She wore a black leather coat, her ashen hair tied back in a single unkempt ponytail. As she puffed hard on her cigar and downed her drink, the tavern owner Haken wiped a glass and replied.
"Their tower lord's famous for it. Can't win a single bet."
"Come on, there's a limit. Look at that field—it seems tilted. Are they even playing for real?"
"You didn't bet on Colfield Kenian, did you?"
"Grend Kenian... or not anymore? Whatever."
She shut off the projection from the orb.
The dim interior was lit only by a few candles on the tables, casting shadows on the lifeless faces of the patrons. Outside, the eerie patter of rain echoed.
Then, a knock came from the door.
Creeeak.
The door swung open with a groan, but no one stood beyond it. No one inside paid it any mind and kept drinking.
Tsking softly at the sight, Mareill tore open the letter she'd received from headquarters that morning.
A blank sheet of paper, nothing written on it.
She knew it was time to wrap this up.
"Hey, barkeep."
"Yes?"
"Ever seen this before?"
She stubbed out her cigar, pulled a silver mask from her coat, and slid a drawing across to Haken.
A grotesque statue of a woman covered in horns.
The demon statue that Whitelett, captain of the Hooksclo Knights, had shown her.
"Hmm... first time seeing it today."
Blood trickled from Haken's eyes as he calmly wiped his glass with a crunching sound.
Fierce rain lashed against the windows.
"I see. Oh, one more thing. How long has this tavern been open?"
"Since Baor III's coming-of-age ceremony, Penheim year 73. Quite a while, huh?"
"Not that long."
Mareill flicked her coat, and two palm-sized orbs rolled out from within.
They struck the chair legs and rapidly expanded, taking the form of massive iron hounds covered in steel.
"Five years later, the Ravière frontlines broke, and this place burned to the ground."
"Pardon?"
Black Magic: Napalm Flame of the Black Scales
Black flames engulfed the tavern. Bottles shattered, and high-proof liquor caught fire.
The tavern's beams twisted with a chilling groan, but no screams rang out.
Facing Haken as the iron hound tore into his throat, Mareill raised her glass.
"Sorry. I wanted to wait until time was up, but the next job came in."
"Mmph... gah...!"
"How long has the Reincarnation Duke been pouring money down the drain? Sheesh. What a headache."
Crunch!
The illusion vanished, leaving only ashes in an empty lot and the relentless downpour.
The strange phenomenon in Bartudis, where past and present intertwined.
Mareill jotted her compiled findings on the back of the paper.
"Now, next up..."
Ravière 12 Leagues' 4th Agency. Counterintelligence Battalion 'Goliath'—Mareill Voltmore.
Penheim's fierce hound, tearing apart espionage threatening the kingdom, be it from demons or humans.
Donning her mask, she read the new orders on the letter.
The canteen repairs were done, and trap installations nearly complete, when Liv dropped by.
She couldn't hide her surprise at the drastically changed exterior.
"What's all this... Owner?"
"Cool, right? I made it."
"Planning a siege here...?"
Her eyes lingered on the nails in the roof and the barbed wire fence. All that hard work paid off with her appreciation.
"Oh, careful around that dirt. Thorns pop out."
"Pardon?"
"And don't touch the flowerbed next to it."
"Why not?"
"Planted carnivorous plants. They only grow near the demon realm—big enough to eat people."
"..."
Liv navigated inside like crossing a minefield, step by cautious step.
I asked her about the spell she'd used during the last exam.
"That magic you used before."
"Mental image magic?"
"Yeah. Think you could put a barrier around the canteen? Strongest one you got."
"Possible, but..."
She furrowed her delicate brow and looked at me.
"Owner, is all this necessary?"
"Necessary?"
"Students might avoid coming here now."
"Hmm..."
Of course, I wasn't burning the house to catch bedbugs. I just felt uneasy without basic defenses when I stepped out.
No matter how strong I got, I only had one body. Traps were non-negotiable.
"Even if customers drop a bit, protecting my treasures comes first."
"Treasures... You said the basement just has old weapons."
Those were priceless. The holy sword and shield weren't mere artifacts.
They held a third of the hero's power I possessed. If the truth of those relics buried under the stone slab got out, chaos would ensue.
"Anyway, cast it. Better than nothing."
"...Got it."
Liv walked around inside and out, surveying the structure.
She measured height, lighting, wood mana conductivity, then pulled out a notebook and scribbled.
Scratch, scratch.
I gazed at her profile. If Adella had untarnished purity, Liv embodied quiet beauty.
She stood a step back from the world, observing all with an aura that kept others at bay.
Terra always said such people were true magical talents.
Her bare face, slender wrists, fingers, nape, ears—unadorned.
Her neat daily attire should've grown boring, but my eyes stayed glued.
"...Please stop staring so intently."
Her prim expression, lips pouting slightly in wariness, made my head itch sometimes.
Unlike with Adella, pranks like hugs or hair-tugs felt off-limits with Liv.
"All done?"
"Yes. This should work, but..."
She pulled her chair closer. No perfume—just a faint, natural scent.
"Owner?"
"Hm? Oh, go ahead. What is it?"
"The best defense for this building seems to be 'Boundary of Lost Thoughts'."
She explained simply for my sake.
"With traps already set, we can't risk structural clashes. Boundary of Lost Thoughts sends intruders back outside along a set path—without them realizing."
"Like a maze?"
"Exactly."
Hard to grasp the principle, but it used mental image magic to deter external spells while blocking entries.
Not bad. Unlike Barrier, no worry of Magic End shredding me on entry.
"You can preset conditions, like who it applies to—weapons drawn, groups of ten-plus."
"Hmm, then..."
I asked her to trigger it for large groups like the Roshiar knights with swords and armor, or anyone lingering too long nearby.
She tinkered with the magic circle, then glanced at me.
"Done, Baroness?"
"...One sec. One more condition."
"?"
With the spell set, she looked relieved.
After parting with Louis, Liv headed to the library with lighter steps.
Visiting the canteen was good. She'd braced for hassle, but it was just a defense spell— one annoying task down.
Only the war history report left for exams. Loan approval denied, time tight, but starting now would make it.
But—
"Approval denied. Can't lend any from your previous list."
Why?
"The, the reason...!"
"Who knows? Didn't snag a seat in the Holy Kingdom or something?"
Ridiculous. Never been near Monarch.
Her steps out were heavier than ever.
Late evening, sun down. Silence everywhere, but her mind raced.
What happened? Unpaid tuition? No, scholarship confirmed.
Policy change from the capital? But friends borrowed fine—odd only hers were blocked.
Then, she noticed the unnatural quiet around her.
Shed been walking slowly; turning back, the library's front gate loomed, firmly shut.
Handle wouldn't budge. No student chatter from inside.
Chills ran down her spine. No way...
'Boundary of Lost Thoughts?'
Grrrrr—
A guttural metallic growl. Startled, Liv drew her staff.
Two massive hounds ahead. And a woman in black coat, mask discarded.
"Liv Greenwood?"
The gray-haired woman drew her ID from her coat.
"Counterintelligence Battalion Goliath—Mareill Voltmore."
Shattered sword, arrow-pierced black shield. The 12 Leagues' fourth unit, hunting all foes beyond the mountains.
"Walk with me."
Three iron hounds flanked her.